Tuesday, February 23, 2010

My journal prompt for today is "Puzzled," but I feel more like it should be "puzzle." I am a puzzle, and I am constantly seeking out the right pieces of myself that fit with the other right pieces of myself. Everything changes, though, and the pieces are constantly in flux. Sometimes it is frustrating; sometimes it is easy to go with the flow.

Today has been a bit of a frustrating day, as was yesterday. I feel as though I just want to "do it right" - no matter what "IT" is. If I don't do it right, I feel frustrated and defeated. (For example: I am pretty sure that I am already over my calorie limit for today. I'm not positive because I haven't looked, but the big salad I had for lunch accompanied by the McDonald's didn't do much to help the process...which means I didn't do today right.) One of the puzzle pieces that never changes is my obsession with perfection, doing it right, no flaws. No matter how much self-talk I practice, I can't ever seem to let that obsession go. I know where it comes from, and I can trace its roots all the way back through my childhood - but that doesn't matter. The here and now matters, and I still can't figure out how to get that one piece of the puzzle to mesh with the rest. With the rest of the pieces, there's give and take. As I said, they are constantly in flux - they mold to fit one another and come into harmony. But this one piece, this one frigging, little piece just won't budge. It sits in the middle of all the others lording over everybody.

And I know it sounds awfully odd, but that's the mental picture I have in my head of that one puzzle piece. All of the others smooth into a picture of me with some fluidity, except that ONE. And that is the one that messes me up every day. Every stinking day.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

It is one thirty in the morning, and, as I was in bed awake, I thought to myself "Hey, I'd like a pack of Oreos." So, I got up and had a pack of Oreos. (They come six to a pack. No, I don't share with Epona.)

And now I'm feeling Oreo remorse.

My eating is spiraling out of control. The only thing keeping it in check, I think, is the daily exercise routine that I actually managed to start. But I'm not losing anything; I'm just maintaining the round weight I have already achieved. (definately a round number)

The intuitive eating side of me is telling me "Who cares? Eat the damn Oreo." The socially-molded side of me says "Don't eat that Oreo or you'll never be pretty."

The question is, I think, is can I be happy maintaining this weight? The exercise I am doing is bound to increase endurance increases, but who knows how long before weight becomes an issue with regards to that. Remember that three mile stuff from months ago? I think it is an utter fantasy that I will ever be RUNNING three miles a day.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

I had to make myself a list because I didn't want to forget the things I wanted to explore today. (It is already a slow day.) Ok, so here we go...

Everywhere, all over the world, there are people asking for things they just cannot have. We are taught this from an early age. No, you can't have that cupcake. No, you can't have that toy. Personally, I was taught that I couldn't have suchandsuch because I had done something wrong. Don't get me wrong, sometimes no was just no, but I recall many a situation that no was because I had been "bad", I cried during the wrong time, or I said something my untreated bipolar mother didn't enjoy. I learned to internalize no. I'm trying not to jump to number four here, but I really did inherit the belief that "no" meant something was wrong with me. It was my fault somehow, and I should feel guilty. It has never crossed my mind that "no" might mean anything other than that. When Hub told me he didn't want to go back to our D/s community, I immediately thought of all the things that were wrong with me. Immediately. Like in the time it took for a heart to beat, I had a list ready to go. His "no" meant I was unworthy. This happened to me recently, too. Frog told me no for something, and I immediately was wallowing in unworthiness. It was my fault. I hadn't been good enough (even though I had done everything she'd asked me to do). So, I have turned "no" into my own personal form of self-torture, and I'm really not happy with that anymore. So, starting today, no is just no. I don't need a reason for it. I don't need a history behind it. No is just no. It is just a word. It doesn't mean anything is wrong with me. It doesn't mean I've been bad somehow. It just is. No does not define me as a person.

Onto the next....asking and receiving. I always feel bad about asking for things because of the no issue. What if they say no? Then, I would be on this tremendous trip in my head, and everything would be out of whack. So, I taught myself that it was better to not ask. In a D/s sense, I even taught myself that it was not a slave's position to ask. But that's really not the way things work, and I'm trying really hard to re-teach myself that. So, here are a few reminders for me:

People cannot read your mind.

People cannot read your body language.

If you don't say anything, nobody will ever know what you are thinking, what you want, or what you need.

If you were dying, you'd ask for that piece of cloth to cover your wound. Think of all situations like that. What if this might be the last time I get to do such and such?

All of this leads back to martyr-fish. I'm still struggling with her because she just does not want to let go of me. She's had such a tight grip on me for so long, she thinks that she is entitled to all of me. But she doesn't make me happy, and I'm really ready to move on. I'm ready to make some new connections. I'm ready to ask and be fulfilled. I really am ready for new experiences because I've already had all of these over and over again.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Some people worry that their children will be struck by lightning on the way to school. Some people worry that they will get fat and ugly. Some people worry that they will be hit by a car if they don't walk on a certain side of the street. Some people worry about other people because they impede upon their space.

Me?

I worry that all of my baggage and bullshit piled together is going to run my loved ones off. Even though they have stood with me, tried and true, I worry. I am needy. I am high maintenance. And I don't understand why people put up with me. Truly, I do not.

So, my worry turns to frenzy. My frenzy turns to internal ravaging and screaming "please don't leave me." But I can't let it show. I don't want you to know that I'm not ok - even though I'm sure it is fairly obvious. I'm normal on the outside, you see, just like you.

But I worry that you can see me, too. And I worry what it is that you really see. And I worry if you think it is ugly. And I worry if you're going to grow tired of trying to help fix me. And I worry if you're going to go away. And I worry because I just don't know how to do anything else but worry.

a person who undergoes severe or constant suffering: a martyr to severe headaches.

a person who seeks sympathy or attention by feigning or exaggerating pain, deprivation, etc.

As I peel back the layers of myself on this new path, I realize that one of my many personality facets is a martyr. I realized it last night while I was on the phone with Jen. I make myself a martyr so that my reality sounds worse than what it truly is. Why do I do that? So I get what I want.

But at the same time, I realized that I have to take what I want, ask for what I want, and otherwise make known what I want. And then came this from my calendar:

"There is no delight in owning anything unshared."

Ask for what you need. If said partner is asleep when what you need arises, take it. Instead of bemoaning the lack of human contact, I cozied up to my partner and wrapped my arms around him - fulfilling my own need by my own actions.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

I started the walking program a few days early. On Thursday of last week, I started doing stairs in my home. At least three flights every day. My dog looks at me like I am crazy, but I'm doing it. I start the treadmill today. And this all started from a very simple realization:

I don't feel strong, which means that I feel weak.

That is completely unacceptable in the new world. Don't misunderstand me, having moments of weakness is ok. Sometimes, you need to have moments of weakness, but feeling weak 24/7 is not ok. And then, I started to think this: I don't feel strong, and I am needy because I don't feel strong. I cling because I don't feel strong. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop because I don't feel strong. And trust me when I say I am one of the neediest people I know. Ask frog: she calls me high maintenance, and I really think she's just being nice when she says it that way.

So, when all of this began to congeal in my head, I started looking for the weakest part of me. I hunted high and low, but it really wasn't a hard search. The weakest part of me is my body image and, therefore, my self-esteem physically. With that in mind, the answer seemed simple. Fix it. Change the body image. Literally, it was midnight when I did my first set of stairs.

The course is simple: Make the body strong with the goal of making the body image strong. One is tied to the other, and you can't do one without the other. I'm going to get my strong on, you'll see...

I took this photo from my phone to send to frog so she could see the frame at work in my cubbyhole, but you can actually see more of the detailing from this photo than from any of the others I have taken.

AND.

I have been asked if I would make a frame for someone's mother for pay. Someone wants to pay me to make them a frame like this. How crazy is that?

Monday, February 1, 2010

It isn't something you can get away from. You either have one or you don't. I've been running from mine for five years. Here's the thing:

I haz one.

I have had one for as long as I can remember. When I do things for Ted, even though he is not my "dominant", I am fulfilling my service-guided heart. When I do things for Jen, that she has asked me to do, I am receiving fulfillment of my service-guided heart. When I give fiona the things she needs as a submissive, I am fulfilling my service-guided heart as well as fulfilling her needs. It is all a process, and it all comes back to the slave heart. It all comes back to a heart that wants to give.

At the same time, I want to be rewarded for my service. I want those trinkets of affection. I want those moments of reward and those acknowledgements of my service-guided heart. I want to hear someone tell me that I am doing well. I want to wear someone's badge of acknowledgement. Does that make me selfish? I don't think it does; I think it is the flip side of having such a heart. It is a neediness (which I will discuss in the next post) that comes with the territory.

I think. Everything is still kind of fuzzy. The only thing I know for sure is that I have a service-oriented heart. I have a giving heart instead of a taking heart, and I am good at identifying what people need and giving it to them. I am good at playing roles; but in the end, I come back to me and my slave heart, which also deserves attention. It doesn't deserve to be ignored anymore. But the only way I can un-ignore it is to ask for what I need, as frog tells me. It is still hard to ask for what I need, but I am getting better at it.